Twilight
by Manufactured Guidelines
Summary: The gentle glow of the outside sky was calming to most.  But Kyouya hates it.


The third music room was painted dusk, illuminated only by the gentle glow of the sunset sky beyond the window. Pinks, oranges, gold-- sky blue had long since fled, darkening into evening indigo-- and the sun himself had already hidden behind the horizon. There was no single point of light; no harsh shadows or highlights to be seen. A sort of tranquility is often associated with this point of the day; many people are already in their homes, relaxing or enjoying themselves. Most people enjoy this brief, fleeting period of time; calming, soothing, _relaxing_.

But Kyouya hated it.

There were many reasons for this, of course, none of which he truly relished admitting; admitting meant _flaws_. He disliked the fact that this dim environment took away the protection of his glasses-- for he could not hide his expression with a simple, well placed tilt of the head when there were no sources of light to reflect. He disliked the distracting contrast of warm twilight hues of the outside sky on his papers and work. He disliked that it was that time of day where artificial lighting looked so terribly awkward and intrusive against the natural glow. He really disliked that it reminded him so much of the imperfections in himself.

But most of all, he hated that it was the time he was left to brood.

In the after hours at the club, five members often left quickly after finishing their mandatory duties. They would say their goodbyes before disappearing through the doors, taking their liveliness and chatter with them; they would sweep themselves from the room, and in minutes, gone they were from the vice president's mind. Two, however, would linger. Kyouya himself remained, knowing that it was here at the school that he could work safely without the risk of unwanted eyes catching a glimpse of his dealings. The other, Tamaki often stayed with him as well, first bubbling excitedly about the day's events, before settling down into a peaceful quiet, content in simply watching his friend's fingers fly so gracefully across the keyboard. This was normal; just the two of them, mostly remaining in silence, letting the gentle _tap-tapping_ make up for their lack of words.

In time, however, even the sun himself must leave, for he can only linger so long; dawdle he might, he is always needed elsewhere.

Alone now, Kyouya distracts himself with values and estimates and figures and reports-- but eventually the workload grows smaller, and smaller…he cannot convince himself fully that there are still improvements to be made, things to do, numbers to crunch. He is done. He has nothing to do. The Ootori mansion (it can never be called _home_) is an unwelcome prospect. There is nothing now to distract him, nowhere better to go…it is early twilight, and dusky colors are beginning to settle in.

It is now that his mind begins to wander unchecked; perhaps this is partially due to the drowsy aura twilight seems to offer, perhaps it is because he has nothing else to ponder. He thinks of how sometimes, sometimes, he feels as though the warmth of the sun is melting the walls of ice he uses to protect himself. He questions if it could ever reach through far enough to discover that he is human, and that he does have his own wants and imperfections and feelings. He wonders if it already has seen so much...

Here, he must force himself away from such a topic, however briefly he lighted upon it. Instead, he reflects on the day at school, the lesson in class, the activities in club…

He thinks about Haruhi, and how she considers him 'nice'. He thinks about how she has become a focal point of the club along with the King himself, and how she transformed the group from a loose circle to a tightly-knit ellipse. He thinks about how she can see into a person's very _soul_, if one were the type to believe in such things, and how she attracts people to her so easily, without ever trying. He thinks about the rest of the members-- the seniors and the twins-- and how each one of them seem to fill a certain part of his life, affecting him in their own manner. He thinks about how he's come to look on them as _friends_, not merely _associates_.

He thinks about Tamaki, and how far he and the Frenchman have grown. He remembers how much of an influence the blonde was on him back when he still attempted to impress _Suoh_, and he can still feel that strange captivation he felt even after all this time. He recalls the day the club was proposed, and his own surprise at the list of names. But perhaps most strongly of his thoughts regarding Tamaki were the ones he feared having. He often stopped to wonder at how he changed; he had softened so much, grown so lenient, become so…vulnerable. These sort of thoughts often left him afraid of letting anyone in further; it left him resolving to be a little more harsh, a lot colder, a bit more steely…until he realized that he could never, ever keep to these promises.

He could never keep these promises because he couldn't deny _that face_. He could not be any more steely or cold than he already was, because he couldn't deny _that voice_. He did not-- could not-- push Tamaki away, because it was he who showed him friendship. Care. Trust. Maybe even love.

Maybe…maybe with time, he will grow to look on these thoughts without fear, but instead with fondness. Maybe he could stop relying entirely upon hiding behind lenses. Maybe he could come to appreciate the rosy reflection of light on his paper, and maybe he could shut off the florescent lighting in the room, to appreciate the gentle softness of the outside sky.

It was a possibility.

Maybe, just _maybe_, Kyouya could grow to appreciate the twilight as much as he loved the daytime sun.

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* * *

I know this was kinda subtle, but I see it this way:

If daytime sun is Tamaki, and nighttime is business (and cold family), then Kyouya's own time is the twilight-- that time just in-between the two. I personally believe he hasn't quite come to appreciate himself entirely, though Tamaki helped him somewhat.


End file.
